Introduction
According to Anna-Leena Siikala, “The origin of Finnish shamanism is
indeed traceable to the ancient northern hunting cultures.” (1) In this multipart series of posts, I follow
the prehistory of Finnish shamanism back to its origin in the hunting cultures
of the Mesolithic Age, and then down to the time it ended in Finland and
Karelia during the Iron Age, perhaps as late as 1300 AD.
I use the term ‘Uralic-Finnic’ to refer to the shamanic institutions of
the ancient northern hunting cultures, indicating that they were Finno-Ugric
and, in turn, formed part of the broader Uralic culture of Central Russia (also
called European Russia).
The Uralic-Finnic hunter-gatherer-fishers of Central Russia and Finland
and Karelia depended for their survival on the rites of animal ceremonialism,
centred on their reciprocal relationships with the spirit guardians of game of
local areas. The basis of the
relationships is what I call the ‘ontological frame’ of each shamanic
institution. In my previous post I
described the frame of the Arctic-Saami institution, and in the series of posts
A History of Finnish Shamanism I will do the
same for the Uralic-Finnic. I suggest
that the frames of both institutions were relatively stable across millennia,
and that this ‘shamanic continuity’ makes it possible to trace the
Uralic-Finnic institution from its inception to its conclusion.
Reconstructing the Uralic-Finnic ontological frame involves answering
three questions from the standpoint of the foragers: What ontological forms do spirit persons
take? What is the nature of social relations between human persons and spirit
persons? What is the nature of the ‘sacred geography’ of
the worlds—of this world and the other world—where these social relations
take place?
We have no direct accounts from the historical period of Uralic-Finnic
forager lifeways or rites to help us formulate the answers, as we did for the
Arctic-Saami institution. For this
reason, I am primarily relying upon the evidence of Uralic mythology, Russian
ethnology as based on the bylina tradition,
archaeological finds and writings, and Finnish ethnography as based upon the
Kalevala metre runes: the metrical folk poems of Finland and Karelia dating
from the Bronze Age onward.
 |
| © Johannes Setälä |
In the painting above by shaman-artist Johannes Setälä, the mythic
figure of Väinämöinen points to the Kalevala metre runes—as popularised by
Elias Lönnrot in his book, the Kalevala—as a key to understanding the
shamanic past of Finland and Karelia.
The World Tree and the Blue Stone Tradition
In the recent Spirit Boat post on the Arctic-Saami shamanic
institution, we saw that the ontological form of the guardian of game of a
local area was the sieidi, a deity of the
otherworld who physically resides in ‘this world’ as a living stone
person. Into the historical period in
Finland and Karelia, Saami directed worship, supplication and sacrifices to sieidis in order to
achieve hunting and fishing success.
Laestadius observes that unlike the Saami, “The Finns never had stone
gods.” (2) However, stones have also figured as key
elements of Finnish spiritual traditions.
Various anomalous boulders, rock gorges, ‘cupstones’, ‘church stones’,
holes or cracks in cliffs, and more across Finland and Karelia have since
pre-Christian times been considered by Finns as holy, or sacred. However, rather than indicating embodied
deities, they have been points of access or portals where communication has
been carried on with ancestors and spirit persons of the other world, and sometimes,
like the Saami, to obtain hunting and fishing success.
An example of a stone of this kind is the Kapeenmäki
boulder, pictured below, near Kuopio.
There is a small cave beneath the boulder and the floor has a pool of
water after rainy weather. According to Kesalainen and
Kejonen, “the place reflects the world of shamans, with the sky of the
spirits above; the side of the rock in front; and the pool below which is a
gateway to Manala (mythological underworld and realm of the dead).” (3) This description evokes the liminal quality of
the site: a meeting place of the physical and cosmological worlds.
 |
| Kapeenmäki boulder |
“Kesalainen and Kejonen continue: “The boulder is among places used by
one of Savo’s last great tietäjäs, Rotikko-Pekka (1855-1927), Christian name Petter
Ruotsalainen, for his healing activities. It is protected by a strong haltija (mythological
guardian spirit).”
Can we discover a link, as the authors Kesalainen and Kejonen have
suggested, between the sacred Kapeenmäki boulder and the much earlier shamanic
rituals and practices of Uralic-Finnic hunter-gatherer-fishers of Finland and
Karelia? In this post I will suggest
that stone landscape elements like this one, with connections to the Bronze and
Iron Ages, are related to the much older mythic tradition of the “Blue Stone”
and related ‘cult stones’ that originated as early as the Mesolithic Age in the
Uralic heartland of Central Russia.
Ahlqvist calls it a “tradition of the fixed stone
which provides access to the mythic world and finds manifestations in the immediate
landscape.” (4) Siikala suggests that it is “a tradition whose
roots lie in the shamanistic world of belief.” (5)
Ahlqvist contends that hunter-gatherer-fishers of Central Russia
gathered at these fixed stones in order to communicate with spirit guardians of
game. I will suggest that this mythic
tradition played a key part in the genesis of the original ontological frame of
the Uralic-Finnic shamanic complex centred in the area of the interfluve of the
Volga and Oka rivers.
I will explore Ahlqvist’s view that the Blue Stone mythic tradition
travelled from Central Russia to Finland and Karelia through successive waves
of cultural influence. I will suggest
that the tradition was transformed in Finland and Karelia, going beyond the one
in Central Russia. Instead of solely
centring on specific stones in the landscape, it became a generalised system of
mythic themes and images that provided a flexible and evolving guide for
Uralic-Finnic bands for locating rock formations— cliffs, boulders, rock
clefts, and more—that were portals to the other world. At these places communication could be
carried on with guardians of game and healing rituals could be conducted. I will suggest a rock painting site in
Finland—Saraakallio—exhibits evidence of being such a portal.
While I consider the cultural model of the Blue Stone to be at the
heart of the Uralic-Finnic ontological frame in Finland and Karelia, I suggest
that an equally potent force in shaping the frame were new technologies of
sacred art. They arrived with the same
successive waves of cultural influence from the Volga-Oka region that brought
the Blue Stone tradition. The products
of the new mediums became central to the rites of the local Uralic-Finnic
shamanic institution, offering fresh avenues for attracting and communicating
with spirit persons of game. The
technologies that I will consider here include sculpting of large wooden
statues; crafting of items of clay; and carving and painting of rock
surfaces.
Finally, I will consider how the Blue Stone tradition of
Finland and Karelia became transformed for a second time, in the Iron Age, when
agriculture took its place alongside hunting and fishing as a means of
subsistence and the institution of Finnish shamanism drew to a close. At this time a new type of ritual
practitioner, the tietäjä, began to take over from the shaman (noita)
as the principal mediator between the community and the other world. Sacrifices at landscape elements of stone
continued to be made by hunters and fishers to ensure success. However, the
stone landscape elements also began to be used in new ways, for example in
healing rituals such as those of Rotikko-Pekka at the Kapeenmäki boulder, for appeals
for abundant crops and for reciprocal contact with ancestors.
The Blue Stone of Creation
Before I address the above questions, I wish to point out ethnographic
evidence of the presence of the ancient Blue Stone tradition in Finland and
Karelia as late as the Iron Age. This is
contained in a Kalevala metre rune that, while influenced by later Germanic
themes that were current then, also reflects themes that are altogether more
ancient. Frog says of the rune, “The
depiction resonates with many of the broad international associations which
have been brought to bear on the Blue Stone.” (6)
The rune was recorded by a collector in Karelia in 1845. It tells of the creation of the world, in
which a Blue Stone came to form the base of the ‘World Tree’, serving as a
point of access to the other world. (6) In ancient Uralic mythology, the World Tree, also called the ‘Cosmic
Tree’ or ‘Tree of Life’, extends from its roots in the lower world, up through
the middle, or physical world, and finally to the heavens: the upper
world. By means of the tree, the
shaman—in an ecstatic state—travels through and among these tripartite realms
for purposes such as securing favourable conditions for subsistence for his
band, for healing, and for responding to community-wide crises.
In the rune, the ‘Blue Stone of Creation’ appears as part of the first
ground raised in the primal sea.
Väinämöinen, a mythic hero figure in the runic tradition, comes upon the
stone and breaks it open. This allows a
snake, or adder, to emerge from the other world, reflecting ancient Finno-Ugric
mythic traditions of how spirits entered the world through a stone broken at
the world’s creation. (6)
The stone split into two
The boulder into three parts.
There an adder was drinking beer,
A snake was sipping maltwort
Inside the blue stone…
Väinämöinen tears off the head of the snake, creating a river of blood.
The World Tree, in Finnish tradition called Iso Tammi, ‘the Great Oak’,
grows from it. The tree subsequently grows so large that it blocks the sun and
moon and must be cut down. (6)
Above is a depiction of Väinämöinen sitting at the base of the World
Tree, playing a mytho-magical kantele.
Below is a Neolithic Age rock painting located on a cliff at the
Saraakallio rock painting site near Laukaa, Finland. It can be interpreted as reflecting the mythic
themes of the rune that we have examined.
 |
| Photo: Leppä |
In the early Kalevala metre runes, ‘adder’ commonly appears as a
synonym for ‘seer’ or ‘shaman’. (7) The painting can be
seen as showing a shaman—in the form of a snake—emerging from the otherworld
through a cleft in a Blue Stone cliff, recalling a spirit entering the world
through a stone that has been broken open.
Mythology as Evidence
The ‘World Tree’; ‘The Blue Stone of Creation’; and the ‘snake as
traveler between the worlds’ are what Siikala calls “mythic images”: discrete
motifs of mythology. (5) They are part of larger interconnected
complexes of images that together form the mythology of the ancient Uralic,
predominantly Finno-Ugric, shamanic cultures of Northern Eurasia. This includes those of Finland and Karelia,
and the images are embedded in their ancient cosmologies.
In laying out the story of the Finno-Ugric ontological frame, I will
rely on mythology as a primary form of evidence. Siikala observes that, “Myth deals with the
problems of existence and the conditions for guaranteeing it.” (8) I would add that as the nature of the
problems of existence of foragers of prehistory changed over time, myth grew
and evolved.
Commenting on the truth value of myth, Finnish folklore scholar Juoko
Hautala says that for early peoples, myths “are not just considered true
stories but rather as living reality (that) continued to influence the world
and the destinies of people.” (9) Myth is “a powerful active force” that lives
through ritual and through sacred art, as exemplified by in the interpretation
that I put forward of the rock painting at Saraakallio. For animists of both prehistory and today,
like myself, myth is an avenue to deeper understanding of—and engagement
with—the nature of non-dual reality.
The Blue Stones of Northern Eurasia
Siikala says “the Finns’ early forefathers belonged to those cultures
where shamanism was a common practice.” (1) However, she points out that a major challenge
in reconstructing the nature of the shamanic cultures of Central Russia is that
the early establishment of agriculture there “masked” or “overshadowed” evidence
of their shamanic rituals and practices. (8) In
this regard, the Blue Stone mythic tradition is particularly valuable as a
surviving element of the shamanic past of northern Eurasia, including Central
Russia, and later of Finland and Karelia.
According to Arya Ahlqvist, “Across the millennia following the Ice
Age, peoples of the northern strip of Eurasia were developing their own
traditions of ‘the cult of the stone’—and above all, the archaic category
addressed here as the Blue Stone.” She
says the blue stone provided access to the “mythic or supernatural world”. She likens it in its significance to the other
major “cult of the stone”, the sieidi tradition of the
Arctic-Saami shamanic institution. (4)
Based on her field
research, Ahlqvist points to a “massive phenomenon of cult stones referred to
as ‘Blue Stones’ found across a vast expanse of Northern Eurasia”. (4) She charts the extent of toponyms carrying the
name Blue Stone as identified through maps, ethnographic records, and the
testimony of local informants.
The Blue Stone tradition originated among Finno-Ugrian tribes centred
in the Volga-Oka region of Central Russia, as part of Uralic culture. The map above shows that from its original home, the tradition radiated
outward across Northern Eurasia, including to Finland, Karelia and Estonia. Regarding
the age of the tradition, Ahlqvist says, “I consider it obvious that the
cultural-historical phenomenon itself already underwent its main distribution
in the period of ancient hunting and fishing cultures of the Stone Age.” (4)
The Russian term for Blue Stone Sinij kamen, a translation
of the Finno-Permian term ‘black stone’, was incorporated into Russian in the
early Middle Ages. (It is thought that
whether called blue or black, the reference was to stones on the dark end of
the spectrum.) The Finnish folklorist
known as Mr. Frog says, “if this argument is correct, it shows a history of the
blue stone as a point of access to the supernatural world going back several
thousand years.” (6)
The timing of several thousand years seems too conservative: as Mr. Frog himself suggests, it is not known
how long before the term for ‘black stone’ was incorporated in Russian that it existed
in Finno-Permian, or in that language’s parent, Finno-Ugric. The origin of the tradition could be as early
as 8,000 BC, for as Ahlqvist says in reference to the oldest known and perhaps
original Blue Stone at Lake Pleščeevo, “archaeologists date the treatment of
the legendary Blue Stone as a cult object from the Mesolithic period.” (4)
The Blue Stone of
Lake Pleščeevo (above) is located near Novgorod, in the area of the interfluve of the
Volga and Oka rivers. The stone, made of
metamorphic biotite-quartz rock, appears grayish in dry form, but after
rain the wet surface becomes dark blue. One possible indication of the antiquity of the stone is the discovery
nearby of ceramics of the Neolithic Pit-Comb Culture of the Volga-Oka area
(5000-3650 BC). (4)
Animal Ceremonialism
Mr. Frog says, “Although the tradition of the Blue Stone may have
ancient roots, it is unclear what the original significance of this image was.”
(6) However, Ahlqvist, based on her extensive
study of the Blue Stone tradition in Russia, takes a different stand. She says, “The archaic features
underlying the essence of Blue Stones enable the conclusion that the original
roots of this cultural-historical phenomenon are the religious concepts of
earlier hunters, gatherers and fishermen across the northern strip of Eurasia.” (4)
What were the religious concepts?
Ahlqvist says there is a “probable historical mystical connection of the
Blue Stone with forest spirits.” As
well, the Blue stone was sometimes seen as a “locus-emblem of the water
spirit.” She concludes that in Central Russia, “Most likely,
hunting and fishing luck was requested specifically at the Blue Stone.” Even into the historical period, “Blue
Stones were gathering places for hunters and at some, fisherman would gather,
such as at the Blue Stone of Lake Pleščeevo, which marked fishing grounds.” (4)
I suggest that the Blue Stone provided for the shamanic Finno-Ugrian
peoples of Northern Eurasia a point of access to the spirit persons of the
forest and waters who governed success in hunting and fishing, and in doing so,
formed a primary focus of rites of animal ceremonialism. As such, it would have been central to the
initial ‘ontological frame’ of the emerging shamanic institution of the
foragers of Central Russia, that I call Uralic-Finnic. It can be stated as follows:
I
will continue to update the three elements of the Uralic-Finnic ontological
frame with new information as we move forward.
Additional substantiation for this picture of
the ontological frame of the early Uralic-Finnic foragers of Central Russia—and
the role of the Blue Stone in it—is to be found in a mythological folklore
account from Russia called ‘Sadko and the Sea Tsar’. We will now turn to it.
Sadko and the Sea Tsar
Byliny are epic stories in the Russian oral
tradition that take the form of poems presented as song. ‘Sadko and the Sea Tsar’ is a series of
three byliny that are usually combined into a single bylina. Byliny originated as early as the 10th
century among the rural people living around Lake Onega in the northwest of
European Russia. ‘Sadko and the Sea Tsar’ is thought by Ahlqvist to have
been composed in the late Iron Age or early Medieval period, and was recorded from the singer A.P. Sorokin, a fisherman, in Olonets
Province in 1860. (4)
The bylina features a character
named Sadko who is expertly playing a gusli—an early type of stringed
instrument similar to the kantele of Finland—while sitting on a
‘blue-burning stone’ (Blue Stone) on the shore of Lake Ilmen near
Novgorod. The initial lines are as
follows:
A, i, Sadko went to Lake Il’men’
A, i, and he sat down on the blue-burning stone at the lake,
And began playing the gusli.
So in the lake water became agitated,
The Tsar of the Water appeared. (4)
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| Sadko, 1919. V. Vasnetsov, Memorial Museum, Moscow |
The ‘Sea Tsar’—the spirit guardian of the sea and its creatures—so
enjoyed Sadko’s music that he made possible for him to have a rich catch of
fish. Sadko did not reciprocate the
gift, and while at sea during a storm, the Sea Tsar required him to offer
himself as a sacrifice by diving into the water.
 |
| The Hermitage - I.Repin: Sadko in the Underwater Kingdom (1876) |
Sadko entered the underwater realm and played again for the Sea
Tsar. This was accepted as repayment,
and Sadko was allowed to safely resume his life on land. (10)
Ancient Magic Rites
Smirnov and Smolitskii find a link between the Sadko bylina and
hunting rituals that recall animal ceremonialism. They say,
“One cannot exclude as an hypothesis that the version of A.P. Sorokin is a
residual evolutionary trace of those folkloric works in which there are
reflected ancient magic rites of telling stories or more rarely singing songs
during a hunt for the purpose of gaining the favour of spirits of the forest or
the water in order to receive from them as a reward the desired quantity of
game.” (11)
How can we establish the antiquity of the “ancient magic rites” at a
Blue Stone to which the bylina refers?
Ahlqvist says, “The premise of the preservation of the incredibly
powerful cult of the Blue Stone up to the present day is, of course, its
transmission from one culture to the next.”
That is, prior to the arrival of Slavic populations in the 5th
century AD, the area where the Sadko bylina was sung had been
occupied by a succession of Finno-Ugric cultures occupying the same
geographical area. These included the shamanistic
Neolithic Age Upper Volga, Lyalovo, and Volosovo cultures. Later cultures included the Bronze Age
Textile, or Netted Ware, and Djakovo cultures, and finally cultures of the
early Middle Ages—the Merya, Muroma. and Meshchera.
(4)
Ahlqvist argues that while the Finno-Ugric cultures that followed the
Volosovo were primarily agricultural, they also continued to hunt, fish and
gather, and in this way preserved ancient hunting rites. She says, “It can be proposed that the preservation of
archaic traditions and rituals, which were related primarily to hunting,
gathering and fishing cultures, was to some extent made possible because of the
fact that these original means of livelihood continued to play a significant
role in subsequent early agricultural societies, such as the societies of the
Djakovo and Merja.” (4) The Sadko bylina was likely composed
during the early Middle Ages, in the area of the Merja culture. This may help explain how the Sadko bylina
could well represent an “residual evolutionary trace” of the “ancient magic
rites” of the earlier shamanistic Upper Volga, Lyalovo and Volosovo cultures of
Central Russia.
Shamanic Elements of the Sadko Bylina
According to Propp, “The bylina about
Sadko occupies an exceptional place in Russian epic poetry and is unlike any
other bylina.” (12) One way in which the Sadko bylina
is exceptional is in its distinctly shamanistic elements, possibly referring
back to the animal ceremonialism of Finno-Ugric cultures of the Volga-Oka
region.
Pertinent for us here is the “blue-burning stone”, or Blue Stone, upon
which Sadko sang and played the gusli.
It is in Ahlqvist’s words, “marking the borders between two
worlds”. (4) It
is the place of contact between the shaman figure, Sadko, who is a resident of
this world, and the Sea Tsar, who is the guardian of sea creatures and resident
of the other world. Linking the bylina
to animal ceremonialism are the themes of a gift of fish on the part of the
guardian of sea creatures, and the theme of reciprocity through sacrifice offered
by the human.
In common with shamanism, the bylina point to a conception of
the cosmos that includes an otherworld underwater realm. Propp says, “The three songs about Sadko are
remarkable because they represent the only Russian epic in which the main
character makes a journey to the otherworld.”
He continues, “We know that such
a method of traveling to ‘the other world’, in this case an underwater one,
goes back to prehistoric times.” (12)
The music of the gusli induced an ‘adjusted style of
communication’ (ASC) on the part of Sadko, the shaman figure, that successfully
engaged the Sea Tsar and the other spirit persons. The gusli is a ‘song-sled’, the term
used by several shamanic cultures to describe the zither-like instrument that,
like the drum of a shaman, is able to transport him to the other world and put
him in communication with residents there.
As well, Sadko used ‘animate speech’, language that was jointly understood
by both himself and the Sea Tsar, that was part of the adjusted style of
communication.
The Sadko bylina contains other
clearly animistic elements. According to
Belinsky, speaking of the inhabitants of the underwater realm, “These are not
dry allegorical and rhetorical personifications. They are the living images of
ideas. They represent the poetic personification of the water gods.” As well, "All these seas, lakes and
rivers are personified in the narrative poem, and they are poetic characters.
This gives the poem a certain fantastic character, which is in general quite
alien to Russian poetry and therefore all the more striking in this poem."
(12)
Some have conjectured that the bylina
‘Sadko and the Sea Tsar’ simply borrows from
the Finnish rune of ‘Väinämöinen and the Kantele’, since the mythic
figures—Sadko and Väinämöinen—were playing similar ancient musical
instruments—the gusli and the kantele—and both attracted nature
spirit persons. Smirnov and Smolitskii
reject this analysis: “In genuine runes
the motif of playing is not developed in a relation between Väinämöinen
and the mistress of the water.” (11) That is, the Väinämöinen rune involves
attraction of nature spirit persons to his playing of the kantele, but unlike
the Sadko bylina does not include interaction with a spirit
guardian who confers a generous catch of fish.
In this way, it is not directly connected in the same way with the
ritual of animal ceremonialism.
Summary
As we have seen, the Blue Stone tradition
survived from ancient times, and together with the Sadko bylina it gives
us important clues as to the possible ontological frame of the shamanic
cultures of the Volga-Oka region. The enlarged
ontological frame, with additions to the original one marked in bold, is as
follows:
The Blue Stone and Healing in Russia
In addition to playing an important part in hunting
and fishing ceremonialism, there is evidence that Blue Stones also played a role
in healing rituals in Northern and Central Russia. Ahlqvist puts forward examples of this role that she refers to as “echoes of their former sacredness”. In one, she writes that “in the
Archangel Oblast, healing properties were attributed to a particular Blue or
Grey Stone”.
Above is a
painting of a scene above from the early 20th century, in which Roma
people are celebrating a wedding around the stone, with the village of Trjaslovo and Lake Nero in the distance.
The Uralic-Finnic Ontological Frame in
Finland
To
this point I have identified what I consider to be ethnographic evidence of the
genesis of the Uralic-Finnic ontological frame in the Volga-Oka area of Central
Russia, with the Blue Stone tradition as a core element. We will now
turn to Finland and Karelia to explore how the frame arrived there and how it
was elaborated.
Christian Carpelan says that over a period of four millennia, from 6000
BC to 1900 BC, the Volga-Oka area “generated a surplus of population and
cultural creativity.” (13) Successive waves of cultural
influence—accompanied by population movements—radiated outward from this area,
reaching Finland and Karelia. Unto Salo
refers to “strong impulses from east to west that
continued over millennia.” (14)
What was the impact of the impulses?
In Salo’s view, it was considerable: “Earlier cultural change (in
Finland) was largely based on innovations adopted by kindred peoples in the
East and passed on westwards.” (14) There is evidence that the core attributes of
shamanism were among these innovations.
Siikala says, “Many features of Finnish shamanism point to the
shamanistic complex of subarctic forested regions.” (15) A hub or centre of this complex—that I term
here the Uralic-Finnic—was located in the Volga-Oka region. According to Parpola, the successive cultures
inhabiting this region across 4000 years —including the Upper Volga, Lyalovo,
and Volosovo cultures—represented essentially one and the same population. (16) It is likely that this remarkable continuity
of the population of the Volga-Oka area led as well to continuity in the
shamanic complex located there, and by extension the shamanic institution in
Finland that was periodically renewed through the waves of influence emanating
from the area.
According to Ahlqvist, one of the cultural elements that arrived with
the successive waves of cultural influence from the Volga-Oka area was the Blue
Stone tradition. She says, referring to
Carpelan’s analysis, “Precisely some of these waves of migration could be
attributable with the spread of this powerful image from central Russia to the
north and northwest.” She continues, “the
cult of the Blue Stone did not take root (in Finland) in any single period, but
rather was brought in different times with multiple waves of migration.” (4)
If, as Ahlqvist suggests, the Blue Stone tradition appeared in Central
Russia in the Mesolithic Age, it is possible that it was brought by migrants
into Finland of the Mesolithic Butovo culture.
If so, I suggest that on its arrival, the Blue Stone tradition would
have been a major factor in shaping the founding Uralic-Finnic ontological
frame in Finland and Karelia, as it had been in Central Russia. As well, over succeeding
waves of influence, the tradition in Finland would have continued to be
reinforced.
Another powerful force in shaping the
Uralic-Finnic ontological frame in Finland and Karelia were new mediums of
sacred art based on technologies that had been developed in the east and then
passed on with the successive waves of influence. One that will be considered here is the
sculpting of large wooden statues.
Pictured below is the head and shoulders of such a sculpture, discovered
at Pohjankuru in southern Finland and perhaps dating to the end of the
Mesolithic Age.
 |
| National Museum of Finland (photo: Leppä) |
Other new sacred arts mediums were the
crafting of items of clay and the carving and painting of rock surfaces. The products became central to the rites of
the Uralic-Finnic shamanic institution in Finland and Karelia, offering fresh
avenues for establishing communication with spirit persons of nature.
Waves of Cultural Influence
We can count four major waves of cultural influence, and population
movement, from the Volga-Oka area to Finland and Karelia, as identified in the
work of Carpelan and adapted here (13) (17) :
- 8000 BC: Migrants of the Butovo Culture from the
Volga-Oka entered Finland and joined with migrants from the Kunda Culture
of the Baltic region. Together they
formed the Mesolithic Suomusjärvi Culture, that possessed the first
Uralic-Finnic shamanic institution in Finland.
- 6000 BC: Cultural influences—and in Meinander’s
view, migrants as well—entered Finland from the Upper Volga Culture,
carrying the sacred arts of ceramic pottery and of clay figurines, and
initiated the Sperrings or Early Comb Ware Culture.
- 4000 BC: Population groups from the Volga-Oka
moved to Finland and Karelia, bringing the Comb-Pit Ware style of ceramics
and the sacred arts of rock carving to Karelia and rock painting to
Finland.
- 1900 BC: Members of the Textile or Netted Ware
Culture, who had incorporated the earlier Volosovo and Fatyanovo Cultures,
brought to Finland/Karelia the distinctive textile imprinted style of
ceramics (Sarsa-Tomitsa), the beginnings of agriculture, as
well as the first articles of bronze.
Between the periodic waves of influence, there were also on-going
contacts between Finland and the Volga-Oka area through what archaeologist Oula
Seitsonen calls “socio-economic contact networks reaching eastwards from
Finland.” (email communication: 12/3/2013). It is likely that these networks were based on
family relationships. Salo says, “Within hunting society, probable exogamy created family and language
ties between families, both near and far.”
(14)
The ties were strengthened through ongoing
movement of population from Russia to Finland.
Salo writes, speaking of Russia: “Hunting communities were used to
nomadic life; places of habitation could be found great distances away, even
Finland, where it is probably the high density of fish that attracted people to
move.” He says that with its extensive
lakes and sea coastlines, “Finland must have been a paradise for Stone Age
fishermen.” (14)
I will now explore a scenario of the arrival of the Blue Stone
tradition in Finland with the first wave of cultural influence from the
Volga-Oka region. We will see that even
if the Volga-Oka region was a major influence on the ontological frame of the
Uralic-Finnic shamanic institution in Finland/Karelia, this does not mean that
the Finnish/Karelian frame was simply a carbon copy of the one to the
east.
The Butovo Culture
As the Fennoscandian Ice Sheet receded beginning about
10,000 BC, regional Mesolithic cultures began to emerge across northern Russia
and eastern Fennoscandia, including in Finland.
The Volga-Oka area was in Carpelan’s words the “creative core of the
cultural development” of this large region.
(18)
As we saw above, the first wave of cultural influence
flowing from the Volga-Oka area was in 8000 BC, bringing members of the
Mesolithic Butovo Culture to eastern Finland.
As well, members of the Kunda Culture—who had affinities to the cultures
of Volga-Oka—arrived from the Baltic area in the south. Together they created the new regional
Mesolithic Suomusjärvi Culture.
It is possible that the Butovo Culture was the initial
bearer of the Blue Stone tradition to Finland, and
that tradition formed a core element of the founding ontological frame of the
new Suomusjärvi Culture. This frame might
have resembled the one summarised earlier, as derived from analysis of the
Sadko bylina.
 |
| Blue Stone, Janakkala, Finland |
Ahlqvist
has found evidence of Blue Stones in Finland’s landscape in the National Land
Survey Online Mapsite. In a replication
of her search of the database, I found nine instances of either a ‘blue stone’
or a ‘blue cliff’. Almost all are in Eastern
Finland, as shown in the map at the left, below.
 |
| Go to Mapsite here |
In
the map at right, above, there are related types of stones, including 66 instances
of ‘black stone’ or ‘black cliff’; 14 instances of ‘grey stone’ or ‘grey cliff’;
29 instances of ‘white stone’ or ‘white cliff’; and 21 instances of ‘red stone’
or ‘red cliff’. These are other ‘cult
stones’ in Finland that are related to the Blue Stone mythological tradition,
and that according Ahlqvist exhibit some of the same functions. She calls them “parallel categories of cult stones.” She suggests that the most ancient of the
complex are Blue Stones, but later they “intermingle with images of some other
types of cult stones in the northern and western territories (e.g. Finland) of
the distribution of this broad cultural-historical phenomenon.” (4)
A System of Mythic Images
The many examples in Finland of actual stones related
to the Blue Stone tradition, as identified in the Mapsite queries, make it
clear that the tradition has been active in Finland. However, as it moved into Finland
and Karelia from the centre of the distribution zone in Central Russia, the Blue Stone tradition was transformed,
taking on a broader character than of single stones or cliffs. Ahlqvist says, speaking of Finland and
Karelia and other areas: “The farther the Blue Stone progressed from Central
Russia, the more it emerges not as necessarily connected to a concrete
geographic object or location but rather manifests as a purely imaginary mythic
image.” (4)
In this regard, Mr. Frog explains that in Finland and Karelia, a full
network, or system, of mythic images developed, with a variety of meanings and
ways in which they were applied. (6) The images identify anomalous landscape features that
are entrances or portals to the other world, where exchanges with spirit
persons is possible.
Mr. Frog says this system “retained the basic conceptual associations
as well as several features of the motif system” growing out of what he calls
the “ancient roots” of the tradition.
One set of conceptual associations is “the first stone raised from the
sea of creation and also beliefs that spirits entered the world through a stone
split or broken by a blow.” These
associations “are represented among a number of Finno-Ugric cultures and
beyond.” The other set of conceptual
associations relates to healing: a hole in a stone into which sickness, pains
and injuries are banished to the other world.
Banishment rituals of this kind are found in many ancient shamanic
cultures of Northern Eurasia and Siberia. (6)
 |
| Mr. Frog at the Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura (SKS) Library, Helsinki |
Mr. Frog has identified in the
Kalevala metre runes, and the incantations of the ritual practitioners known as
tietäjäs, many images that are related to these two conceptual
associations and that identify entrances or portals to
the other world. The images that
identify entrances include, in addition to a Blue Stone, the topographical
anomalies of a stone fixed in the earth; a crack or hole in a stone; a hill,
cliff or mountain; the World Tree; and a supernatural river or spring growing
out of the World Tree. The images also
include combinations of motifs, including “a stone and a tree; a stone in the
course of rapids; a stone with a hole; or two stones, cliffs or mountains with
a narrow space between them.” (6)
Mr. Frog’s list is mirrored, in part, in Satu Apo’s
account of the views of residents in the peripheral areas of Eastern Finland
and Karelia of the 18th and 19th centuries. There, she says, “ancient ethnic religious
concepts and practices still thrived; most of these were animistic, dynamistic
and shamanistic.” It was accepted that
the world was divided into three levels.
“It was possible to move from one world to the other only through
certain passageways.” (19)
Apo continues, “In the world of humans, these included
for example shore cliffs which descended deep into the water and rose high into
the heavens or high trees with caves beneath their roots; ravines and canyons,
whirlpools and deep springs were ways into the lower world.” Apo links the portals to shamanism: “In
addition to supranormal beings, only certain animals and shamans were capable
of moving back and forth between worlds or going to the other world and returning.” (19)
How confident can we be that the above accounts,
largely derived from Finnish-Karelian folklore, can illuminate the
Uralic-Finnic shamanic institution of the Mesolithic and Neolithic Ages? I believe there is evidence that the
elaboration of Blue Stone images reflects a tradition that was received from
shamanic times and was, in turn, reflected in the Kalevala metre runes.
Sources of Evidence
The Finnic-Uralic shamanic institution, based upon
hunting, fishing and gathering in wilderness settings, persisted in Finland and
Karelia perhaps as late as 1300 AD in its final form, known as Finnish
shamanism. The noita was the ritual practitioner, a shaman
in the classical sense of the shamanism of Central Russia and Siberia, with
roots in Finno-Ugric cultures.
 | |
|
Perhaps as early as 1000 BC, a new institution of
ritual practitioners known as tietäjäs began to form in the emerging agricultural communities of Finland and
Karelia. Over time, during the Iron Age,
members of local agricultural communities increasingly consulted tietäjäs to meet their needs, and the role
of the wilderness-based noitas was overshadowed. Christianisation was an important factor in this change,
as the church was in the words of Mr. Frog, “inclined to aggressively oppose
shamanic soul journeys in public rituals.” (20)
Mr. Frog says, “there may have been long periods of
interface between…the tietäjä-institution and the vernacular
shaman-institution.” (21) In fact, they may have existed in parallel
for centuries. During this time, the tietäjä institution assimilated elements of shamanism.
Mr. Frog says, “The noita appears
to have used song both in rite performance and in poetic epic as a means of
communicating knowledge of the mythic world. It is probable that noita epic
genres were communicated in kalevalaic poetry and the emerging institution of
the tietäjä drew on these traditions as it rose to dominance.” (22) (I explored this transition from the noita to
the tietäjä in an earlier post, available here.) Siikala calls the tietäjä “the heir to the role played by
the shaman in ancient communities” who “preserved shamanic models of
thought”. (5) However, as we will see, the preservation of
the elements of shamanism on the part of the tietäjä institution was selective.
 |
| Renowned tietäjä, Miines “Miina” Huovinen, 1837-1913 |
Mr. Frog calls the transformation of the inherited
shamanic mythology and practice by the tietäjä institution “a fundamental restructuring” that he likens to a religious
conversion. (20) Germanic models, inherited through the
influence of migrants to Finland from Scandinavia of the Nordic Bronze Age,
were a dominant factor in the development of new expressions of mythology and
folklore of the ascendent tietäjä institution. (5)
While some of the previous shamanic
elements were retained, others were omitted, replaced or modified.
A major change in the Uralic-Finnic ontological frame
was in the social relations with spirit persons of nature. Here the role of soul journeys to the spirit
persons of the other world was largely replaced by the performance of verbal
incantations, a form of animate speech, based on the Kalevala metre runes. The incantations, as delivered by
practitioners who were in an altered state, made possible direct contact with
spirit persons without the necessity of travelling to the other world. (5)
Mr. Frog says “the earlier shamanic institution did
not survive per se, (but) elements of it became established and
were maintained where they found relevance.”
(21) While
the nature of social relations with spirit persons changed in the way that has
been suggested, the other two elements of the Uralic-Finnic ontological frame
remained largely intact. One element was the nature of the ‘sacred geography’
of the other world, including its topography. The other element, (that I will
consider later) was the ontological form of spirit persons, whom Siikala calls
“denizens” of the other world.
Regarding the ‘sacred geography’ of the other world,
Siikala describes the extensive learning that was required of the tietäjä of the otherworld locations and
characteristics as part of the incantation rites. She says the tietäjä “internalized and
organized knowledge concerning the other world, its denizens and topography as
an organic part of his world view.” The ancient Blue
Stone mythic images figured prominently in this internalised topography,
pointing to gateways between the worlds.
Siikala refers to them as “cultural models for describing the other
world” and identifies shamanism as their deep source. (5)
The tietäjä institution had no vested interest in reinventing the vision of the
topography of the other world that was received from the earlier shamanic
institution. I would argue that the
shamanic topographic vision had proven its value over millennia. As well, retaining the shamanic topography
inspired trust on the part of the community.
That is, during the early part of the time of interface between the
institutions of the noita and the tietäjä, noitas continued to remain respected ritual practitioners in Bronze and Iron Age
communities. Mr. Frog says that, “tietäjäs gained ‘rhetorical authority’ through being trained by noitas in
their “powerful magic knowledge”. (22) I suggest that one tangible form of this
knowledge was in terms of the locations of ritual sites—gateways to the other
world—that noitas frequented. Tietäjäs would have benefited from
adopting the same sites for their own rituals.
Any restructuring related to otherworld topography was
ways in which the new ritual practitioners made use of gateway sites. While the tietäjä primarily relied on his personal power, his “hard luonto”, to reach his goals, the noita had acted as a ‘hollow bone’, i.e., relied on facilitating
the application of powers by his spirit helpers, rather than his own. In order to shield and conserve his powers,
the tietäjä conducted his personal
power-gathering rituals at gateways to the other world while alone, and when
engaging in healing rites he did so with only the patient present. In contrast, noita would have conducted his healing or animal ceremonial rituals at these
sites in a way that involved the whole band, with the ‘audience’ taking an
active role in support of the ritual drama as it unfolded.
 |
| Professors Anna-Leena Siikala and Veikko Anttonen |
The above considerations suggest that it was during
the period of shamanism that the elaborated mythic model of Blue Stone
otherworld portals was developed and that it was later assimilated by the new tietäjä institution. Consistent with this conclusion, Finnish
folklore expert Veikko Anttonen links topographical elements—that I consider to
be suggestive of the Blue Stone tradition—with shamanism. He observes that, “In the ethnographic
literature on shamanism, we find that the places which shamans employ to exit
and then re-enter the profane world of men are holes and openings in the
ground, cracks between rocks, and caves, that is to say, the topographically
anomalous sites of the terrain.” (23)
I will later argue that there is even more direct
evidence that the elaborated Blue Stone mythic images were developed during
shamanic times. That is, we will see
that sacred artists positioned some carvings of animals disappearing into, or
emerging from, cracks in the rock faces on the shores of Lake Onega in Karelia,
suggesting that the artists recognised them as entrances to the other world. I
will suggest that this is among the first material substantiation of the the
elaborated Blue Stone mythic tradition in the archaeological record of the
Neolithic Age of Finland and Karelia.
Portals
In the Introduction I presented information on the
Kapeenmäki boulder near Kuopio as an anomalous landscape element that was
recognised as a portal to the other world, and used by the tietäjä Rotikko-Pekka (1855-1927) for his
healing rituals. I am now suggesting
that based on the information we have considered, its status as a portal may
well be much older, from the time of shamanism.
Tietäjäs might have been aware that it was frequented by noitas during the period of overlap
between the two institutions, and began to use it as well. In this light, I will present several other
similar examples of portals.
Pirunkirkko (Devil's Church) is a 33-metre-long boulder cave, in the
shape of a Z, located at Koli National Park.
Tietäjäs came here to increase
their strength and knowledge. Among the most famous tietäjäs to do so were Vaara-Jaska Eronen, who lived in the 17th century and
was sentenced to death for witchcraft but escaped from his imprisonment and
lived in the Juuka fells; and Ukko Eskelinen who is known as the ‘Noita
of Höljäkkä’. (3)
Pirunpesä / Devil's Nest or Den
(Hollola, Finland), is a geological formation of rock cliffs, part of the
Salpausselkä Ridge near
Lahti. The photo on the right (below)
suggests the Blue Stone image of cliffs with a narrow space between them.
In pre-Christian times and into the Christian era it has been a place where
people have gone to make contact with spirit persons of the other world,
particularly ancestors. It is believed
the name of the Devil was given to this rock formation by the Lutheran Church
to ensure that ‘Christian souls’ would not visit there, on pain of rejection by
their communities.
Hunting and Fishing Success
What led to the expansion in Finland and Karelia of
the types of portals, beyond the model of the Blue Stone in the landscape that
was inherited from Central Russia?
It appears that the places where the foragers of Finland of prehistory
repeatedly encountered success in hunting or fishing—i.e., where game or fish
‘gave themselves’ in large numbers—subsequently became enduring sites of animal
ceremonialism. Anna-Leena Kuusi says,
“The spirits of the forest or the water received their share partly on the spot
where the game was killed, or the catch made.
The sites of these permanent rites survived for a long time,
particularly in Eastern Finland.” (24)
In the view of Pentikäinen, these sites—where he says game was “most
easily accessible”—were near “sacred places at which it was possible to contact
the keeper of a game species and to request success in the hunting of this
species.” (25) That is, hunting or fishing success was
greater at sites that were in close proximity to points of access or entrances
to the other world, where the shaman had direct access to the guardians and
could negotiate for ongoing hunting or fishing success through the rites of
animal ceremonialism. For this reason,
the foragers would have become accustomed to seeking out gateways near
productive hunting spots.
The transformed Blue Stone tradition, as it developed in Finland and
Karelia, identified gateways as anomalous landscape elements, particularly
boulders, caves and cliffs. These
elements were uncommon in Central Russia where the Blue Stone tradition
originally emerged. Ahlqvist says,
“compared to the northern territories (e.g. Finland or Karelia), large stones
in Central Russia are quite a rare phenomenon.”
(4) However, when the tradition reached eastern
Finland, with its varied terrain of shield rock and glacial erratic boulders,
hunters and fishers would have encountered a wide array of anomalous landscape
elements near successful hunting and fishing sites.
 |
| Nurmijarvin-hiidenkivi, a possible Blue Stone |
This suggests that the expansion of types of portals
occurred when the foragers in Finland and Karelia, in the course of their
search for productive hunting spots, discovered points of access to the other
world in new types of landscape forms beyond that of the original Blue
Stone. Later these new portals became
incorporated in the elaborated Blue Stone mythic tradition.
Väki Energy
Given the sheer volume of anomalous landscape elements near successful
hunting or fishing sites in Finland and Karelia, how did the Uralic-Finnic
shaman recognise any one of them as a portal?
Apo identifies a distinguishing feature.
She says, “in the ancient mythico-magical thought of Finland/Karelia,
all passageways connecting the world’s separate levels: middle, upper and
lower, were loci of force, charged with large amounts of dangerous
energy.” (19) This energy is termed väki. It surrounded the portal and would have had
the effect of repelling intruders.
Väki is what Stark
calls “a supranormal ‘mana’-like force”, a power charge possessed by various
entities of the world, including persons, objects and natural elements. (26) As it is currently used, the Finnish term väki
generally refers to ‘people’ or ‘crowd’, but Vilkuna says the older, and
original meaning of the word was as a magical force, and this usage “can be
traced back to the Palaeolithic period, a time when primeval Finno-Ugric people
existed.” (27) Stark says the väki concept “can
most likely be traced back to a shamanistic world view”. (26)
Some entities had a more powerful väki charge, including the
ability to do harm, and required special treatment. Kallion (rock) väki’ was considered as
particularly dangerous in the period of the tietäjä institution,
and these ritual practitioners had special powers to deal with it. (26) It is possible that these powers were learned
from noitas, who were equipped to manage the dangerous väki force at a
portal to the other world.
Recall Apo’s statement, “In addition to supranormal beings, only
certain animals and shamans were capable of moving back and forth between
worlds or going to the other world and returning.” This suggests that in addition to the shaman,
the two other participants in the ritual of animal ceremonialism could navigate
the dangerous forces of a portal: first,
the spirit guardian of the game, and second, the souls of elk—both of those who
had been killed in the hunt and were exiting this world, and of those who were
returning to inhabit new bodies.
Returning to the question of how a shaman was able to identify a portal
in the landscape, I am proposing that the shaman would locate near a successful
hunting or fishing spot an anomalous landscape element—such as a boulder,
cliff, cleft, hill, or mountain—that radiated a strong väki force. To do so, the shaman would have had to walk,
ski, or paddle a canoe close to landscape elements because, as Stark says,
transference of a väki charge requires “close proximity and a clear,
unobstructed path to its target, if not actual physical contact”. To confirm that the landscape element was in
fact a portal, the Uralic-Finnic shaman would likely have had to stage a ritual
of animal ceremonialism there, exercising his extraordinary powers to manage
the väki of the gateway and traveling through the portal in order to
contact the guardian, offer sacrifices, and negotiate for hunting success.
I am suggesting that beginning in the Mesolithic Age, it was through these
means that foragers of the Uralic-Finnic shamanic institution discovered many
new forms of anomalous landscape elements in Finland and Karelia that were
gateways to the other world, and successfully used them to communicate with
spirit guardians of fish and game. In
turn, their empirical experience would have been a driver of the transformation
of the regional Blue Stone mythic tradition in Finland and Karelia.
That is, as hunters discovered new gateways in the varied terrain—at
cliffs, clefts, boulders, gorges, hills, mountains and other landscape
forms—the mythic tradition would have expanded to incorporate them. In this way the Blue Stone tradition became a
flexible and evolving guide to, and explanation of, the nature of non-dual
reality as manifested in the wilderness environment.
Two Gateways
Two prominent landscape elements in Finland have the
name of portti, or gateway:
‘Hiidenporti’ and Porttilouhi . Their names make them
particularly interesting for our examination here.
‘Hiidenporti’, near Sotkamo, Finland, consists of a
steep gorge with two dark water ponds between its cliffs.
Long known in local folklore as a gathering place of spirit persons, the gorge is
now the centrepiece of a national park.
Speaking of the gorge, Veikko Anttonen says, “the proper nouns called Hiidenportti are based on appellative meanings of hiisi,
whereby a social group has seen a relatively large crack between two rocks as
sacred (i.e. as ‘hiisi’). The understanding of it being sacred is based on the
observation that the space between two rocks is interpreted as a gateway (portti)
on a border separating the realm where people live from the imaginary realm
that exists ‘beyond’ the borders and surfaces of lived areas.” (28) In other words, it is possible that the Hiidenportti
of Sotkamo was originally a “gateway
of the spirits’ for the foragers of prehistory, reflecting a mythic image based
on the Blue Stone tradition.
The term hiisi is a term of relatively recent
derivation, dated to the Iron Age.
However, as we saw above, Anttonen explains that such anamolous
landscape elements are fundamental to shamanism, suggesting that the cultural
recognition of their sacredness is much older than the Iron Age.
Porttilouhi is a 700-meter gorge near Juuka.
The name Porttilouhi can be translated as the ‘Gateway
of Louhi’. In Finnish-Karelian
mythology, Louhi is the ruler of Pohjola, the otherworld land of the dead
located in the extreme north.
According to Kesalainen and Kejonen, “A boulder in a
crack in the side of the gorge forms a gate, after which the whole place has
been named. The local tietäjäs
used Porttilouhi in their rites – especially its gateway leading to another
world. Patients were also transported through the gate as it was believed that
through performing some particular magic the disease would remain in the gate.
It could not follow the patient.” (3)
The above landscape elements are identified as portals to the other
world based as based on the mythico-magical tradition of Finland and Karelia of
the 18th and 19th centuries. While archaeological evidence is lacking, it
is possible that the Hiidenporti and Porttilouhi sites began to be recognised
as portals to the other world much earlier, as part of the Blue Stone tradition
that accompanied the introduction of Uralic-Finnic shamanism to Finland and
Karelia.
Ontological Visions
How did Uralic-Finnic shamans make use of Blue Stone portals to the
other world? We find an indication in
the Kalevala-metre rune, ‘Väinämöinen and the Kantele’ how they might
have done so. A 19th century
painting by Johan Kortman, below, illustrates the rune.
In the rune, the ‘archetypal shaman’ Väinämöinen sits on a ‘song rock’
while singing and playing on the kantele, a type of zither that
was the successor to the shaman’s drum as his primary sacred instrument. ‘Song rock’ is an image associated with the
Blue Stone tradition, also referred to in the runes as a ‘joy stone’,
‘music-boulder’ or ‘song-boulder’.
According to Frog, a boulder of this kind is “a point of access to or
amplification of the supernatural”, or what we are calling here a gateway or
portal to the other world. (29)
Through his performance on the Blue Stone, Väinämöinen attracts spirit
persons:
In the woods there was not one…
that did not come to listen
to Väinämöinen’s playing…
Even the mistress of the woods…
In the sea there was not one…
that did not come to listen…
Even the mistress of the waters… (30)
In the rune, Väinämöinen employs an ‘adjusted style of communication’—involving
sacred string music and ecstatic chant or song—and spirit persons respond to it. The narrative can be taken as instructions
for how to conduct social relations with the other world as part of shamanic
ontology.
The presence of the two spirit persons of nature—the mistress of the
woods and the mistress of the waters—recalls Ahlqvist’s statements about the “probable
historical mystical connection of the Blue Stone with forest spirits”, and the
Blue Stone being a “locus-emblem of the water spirit.” It also recalls the reference of Smirnov and
Smolitskii to the Sadko bylina, in which he sits on a “blue-burning stone”
singing and playing on a Gusli, as a “residual
evolutionary trace” of “ancient magic rites of telling stories or more rarely
singing songs during a hunt for the purpose of gaining the favour of spirits of
the forest or the water….”
In these ways, the rune ‘Väinämöinen and the Kantele’ suggests a
scene in northern Eurasia, perhaps as distant in time as the Mesolithic Age, of
a shaman summoning the spirits of game to the Blue Stone as a point of access
to the other world.
`
Ahlqvist observes that, “Most likely, hunting and fishing luck was
requested specifically at the Blue Stone.” The rune ‘Väinämöinen
and the Kantele’ does not involve the two-way communication with the spirit
guardians of fish and game at the Blue Stone that would connect it with animal
ceremonialism. However, it is notable here
that ‘Väinämöinen and the Kantele’ was recited as an incantation by fishers of
the early modern period to attract a favourable catch. (30)
Implicit in the Väinämöinen rune, as well as in the references from
Russia quoted above, are several ontological characteristics of spirit persons
of fish and game. That is, the spirit
persons are portrayed as separate from the Blue Stone—neither embodied in the
stone nor living in it—and as freely circulating.
Carta Marina
An illustration by Olaus Magnus from 1539 echoes
themes of the Väinämöinen rune. It is
from a sea chart, “Carta Marina”, depicting the northwest coast of
Iceland. Haavio says of the figure
pictured in the illustration, “What catches our attention is that towards him
there swim swans and a fish, and at his feet there runs a fox-like animal, and
from a nearby hole in the earth a mouse or a lemming pokes his head out.” (30)
 |
| Carta Marina, Olaus Magnus, 1539 |
The source of the picture is not known, but according to Haavio, it
suggests a parallel with Väinämöinen’s playing a string instrument and the
manner in which all of nature responded.
However, lacking an explicit cultural reference to proto-Finland and to
the Kalevala metre runes, it may suggest something more than just a borrowed
visual motif. That is, it may indicate
that there existed in pre-Christian times a regional ontological vision, more
general than just in Finland and Karelia, of the relationship of humans to the
spirit beings of nature. The vision
consists of the following:
- A shaman-like figure has chosen a (song)
boulder to sit upon at a sacred (pyhä) ‘boundary’, where water
meets the rocky land,
- The figure is employing sacred music as
an ‘adjusted style of communication’, and
- Local, free-ranging nature spirit
persons, who appear in animal form, are enticed by the music.
Like the Väinämöinen rune, the illustration by Olaus Magnus is
suggestive of the mythic themes and rites from the wilderness period of
Uralic-Finnic shamanism. In particular,
his conception of the spirit persons of nature includes their manifestation as
animals and birds. As in the Väinämöinen
rune, they are able to move about freely ‘in the wild’ and to be attracted to
the song boulder by sacred music.
The Transition Between
Institutions
I suggest that the tietäjä institution assimilated the basic
shamanic conception of the ontological form of spirit persons, in the same way that
it did with the shamanic conception of sacred geography. This is the case even though additional
spirit entities came to the fore as the institution advanced, such as guardians
of slash-and-burn or swidden cultivation plots, and guardians of farm households. These new local guardians, who reflected the economic
and social aspects of the new practice of agriculture, resembled the earlier local
guardian spirit persons of fish and game of the wilderness period.
The Finnish word for a local guardian spirit person is ‘haltija’. It is of Scandinavian Germanic origin, dating
to the Nordic Bronze Age. (5) The local guardians of fish and game were central
to earlier wilderness shamanism, even if the original term used for it by the
Uralic-Finnic institution has been lost.
The loan word haltija clearly subsumes the
earlier shamanic usage. This is shown in
Laura Stark’s observation that, “Particularly in Eastern Finland, folk ritual
practices regarding haltias included magic and offerings made
to appease the place spirits or ensure success in economic efforts such as
hunting, fishing, grain cultivation, and cattle husbandry.” (31)
While the basic ontological
form of spirit persons was retained by the tietäjä institution, some changes
were made regarding certain otherworld figures of the shamanic period. Notably, Mr. Frog presents evidence that the tietäjä
institution, in the development of the Kalevala metre runes, ‘demoted’
Ilmarinen, the central upper world figure of the shamanic institution, to the
status of a heavenly smith. Into his
place the institution ‘promoted’ Ukko, a figure borrowed from the east whose
powers better matched the emerging world of agriculture and the institution of
the tietäjä. As well,
Väinämöinen, a figure who first made his first appearance in the Kalevala metre
runes, was given a role in the creation of the world. (20)
ln spite of the
changes made to these figures, I argue that the ontological nature of the
spirits of nature itself remained substantially the same in the transition from
the institution of the shaman to that of the tietäjä. What was this nature?
The Ontological Form of Spirit Persons of
Nature
Rafael Karsten
says that although the “local spirits of the pre-Christian Saami and Finns”
were of the same category of
beings, they differed the way they presented themselves. That is, while the “local spirits” of the “Lappish”
(Saami) had “the shape of visible idols above the ground” (sieidis), in
the case of the “ancient Finns” the “local spirits” were “invisible”. (32) Similarly,
Matti Sarmela says that the haltijas of the Finns of the wilderness
period were “living in an invisible environment”, i.e. were residents of
the other world, tuonpuoleinen (“the other side”). At the same time, they were “capable of showing themselves to humans and appearing in the
world on this side,” i.e. tämänpuoleinen. (33)
The guardian of game of the Uralic-Finnic foragers was not in Ingold’s
term “petrified”—literally, ‘converted to stone’—as a “land-based ‘power
source”, as was the sieidi of the Arctic-Saami
shamanic institution. (34) The nature spirit persons of the
Uralic-Finnic foragers were not tied to specific locations in the landscape;
they were what Shepherd calls “autonomous, free-ranging and pervasive.” (35) The regeneration of the souls of elk by guardian
spirit persons as part of the ritual of animal ceremonialism proceeded without
interruption. Consistent with Ingold’s
“animistic ontology”, the power of vital or soul force—the regenerated souls—that
brought forth life was “free-flowing like the wind.”
According to Shepherd, in the cosmology of the pre-Christian Finns, the
“animated spirits of sea, air and forest” were “nearly formless”. She says that pre-Christian Finns did not
personify an animated spirit much beyond giving a name to it, such as Tapio for
the animated forest, or Ahti for the water or the fish. That is, their conception of the spirit
person of nature added little beyond personifying the element or being itself,
whether of the forest or the water. (35) Comparetti concurs with this view, saying that
the spirit persons of the ancient Finns “are not formed with distinctness.”
“Much in them is undetermined.” They are
“creatures in the course of formation, they appear rather passive than active;
they (only) have power within the sphere of the phenomenon or thing they
represent.” (36)
Shepherd says, “The common viewpoint among scholars is that the forest
spirits were not originally anthropomorphic. However, “19th and early 20th century
folklore studies mention various “forest-mother” spirits and, among the Finns,
Tapio, a masculine forest spirit. The
anthropomorphic character of these spirits is considered to have developed
under later, foreign influences.” (35)
There was ambiguity of gender, or genderlessness, in the “animated
forces of nature”. According to
Shepherd, “Sexual distinctions were never so strong in wilderness culture
society as are the distinctions met with in other, more complex societal
forms. Much sexual differentiation of
roles was probably not introduced into Finnish society until its contact with
Christian Europe.” She says, “Such
ambiguity of gender, or genderlessness, is entirely appropriate to the animated
forces of nature belonging to wilderness culture and pre-dating the
Indo-European tradition.” (35)
In contrast to the formalised ritual relationships of foragers to
spirit persons found in the sieidi tradition, animistic ontology is
characterised by what Ingold calls “reciprocal interdependence” of beings based
on the give and take of “substance, care and vital force”. He says, “Beings of both human and non-human
kinds engaged in ongoing mutual interaction” that Ingold terms “dialogic”. This implies non-formalised, non-hierarchical
relations of human and other-than-human persons. (34) In this respect, there was no pantheon or
hierarchical array of deities as we found in the Arctic-Saami shamanic
institution and no tradition of worship of them.
Comparetti says, “In all this mythological world of the Finns reigns
the most complete individualism. There
is no systematic organisation, no genealogical arrangement, no idea of
government.” “The spirits are never
individualised enough to count as deities in the same sense that Western
culture attaches to the word. (36) Kussi says that, “In Finnic folklore, no
borderline can be drawn between concepts of spirits and deity.” (35)
Unto Salo says, “Finnish society was likely too egalitarian to
comprehend let alone formulate any hierarchy of deities. This ideological limitation to a
pre-hierarchic state might also produce a distrust of any centralisation of supernatural
powers into a single kind of being as well.” (35)
In summary, we can say that the spirit persons of the Uralic-Finnic
shamanic institution of proto-Finland were, as beings, non-hierarchical,
non-anthropomorphic, largely genderless, and nearly formless. This recalls Ingold’s observation that in an
“animic ontology”, life takes place in a “world that is not pre-ordained but
incipient, forever on the verge of the actual.”
In view of the congruence of the Uralic-Finnic ontological frame with
Ingold’s analysis of “animistic ontology”, I term it ‘classic animist’. I contrast it with the ‘totemist-animist’ subtype
of animist ontology of the Arctic-Saami shamanic institution.
Summary
In the series of posts A History of Finnish Shamanism, of which the
present is Part 1, I am tracing the prehistory of Finnish shamanism,
backward from its Mesolithic roots in the hunting cultures of Central Russia,
and forward to its final expression in Iron Age Finland and Karelia. The tool that I am using to explore the
‘shamanic continuity’ over this span is the Uralic-Finnic ontological frame.
We saw how after the arrival of the Blue Stone tradition from Russia in
Finland and Karelia, it transformed into a network or system of mythic images
of entrances or gateways to the other world.
The new gateways expanded the scope of sacred geography of the local
Uralic-Finnic shamanic institution of Finland and Karelia, the third element of
its ontological frame. We have just
inquired into the ontological nature of the spirit persons of nature, the first
element of the Uralic-Finnic ontological frame of Finland and Karelia.
Below is an update of the Uralic-Finnic ontological frame, from the
previous one based on the Sadko byliny of Russia, based upon what we have
learned about its first and third elements.
The new elements are bolded.
Looking Ahead
Part 2 of A History of Finnish Shamanism will focus on the second
element of the Uralic-Finnic ontological frame, that of the social relations of
members of the shamanic institution with guardian spirit persons of game. We will see that the products of each of the
sacred art ‘technologies’ arriving in Finland and Karelia from the Volga-Oka
region, in successive waves of influence, assisted those who Zvelebil calls
“innovating hunter-gatherers” to expand their dialogue and influence with
spirit persons of nature. They included
the sculpting of large wooden statues, crafting of items of clay, and carving
and painting rock surfaces.
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